Collapse
by BeginAgain46
Summary: Life is too short for skirting around what you really feel. NS


**Collapse** by **saulalovin**  
A **CSI** fan fiction

**Pairing:** Nick Stokes and Sara Sidle  
**Summary:** Life is too short for skirting around what you really feel.  
**Disclaimer:** No matter how many CSI fics I write (and this is my first, hee), I'll never own them. Yeah, sucks.  
**Spoilers:** This takes place sometime after "Grave Danger", maybe a month or so afterwards.  
**Author's Note:** Hooray for Snickers fluff! This is the result of boredom during English class. Read and review. Thanks!

* * *

He heard her footsteps echo lightly off the walls. The sounds paused as she took sight of him, alone, in the locker room.

He could feel her hesitating and debating inwardly whether to go right on by, pretending that she hadn't seen him, or to approach him and talk.

He wasn't giving her another opportunity to run away.

"Hello, Sara," he said from behind his locker door. He slammed it shut and turned his head to look at her.

Her hair was longer now – it fell a couple of inches below her shoulder and curled nicely at the ends. Her eyes had a slightly haunted look on it – the same look the others had since he had been buried alive. Her features were sharper and the lines on her face made her look older than she really was.

He wanted to see her smile. She hadn't smiled in the longest time.

"Nick," she said, her heart beginning to beat faster. Truth be told, she didn't like looking at him – didn't like to meet his gaze, to be more exact. Physically, he was still Nick – the brown hair, handsome face and toned body. But his eyes gave one the impression that there was nothing behind them – like all the life had been sucked out from him.

She wanted to see him smile. He hadn't smiled in the longest time.

He settled on the wooden bench and patted the seat next to him. She sat down, her spine unnaturally erect and her shoulders stiff.

"How are you?" she asked softly after a long silence.

A thoughtful look crossed his face. "Better," he said finally, "but not totally back to normal."

"I don't think it'll ever go back to normal," she blurted out, and cringed at how harsh it sounded. "I mean, I – "

" – You're right," he interrupted. "Getting buried alive isn't exactly something you can easily forget."

She stared at him open-mouthed for a second before looking away and muttering, "I don't know how you can joke about that."

"Well, it seems to be a better alternative to wallowing in the pity people have been trying to drown me in," he said mildly, absentmindedly poking at a bruise on his arm from the ant bites.

"I hope I wasn't one of those people," she said tightly, still unable to bring herself to look at him. She had a feeling it would only make her burst into tears, and she did _not _want to lose control of herself after doing such a good job of reining in her emotions for the past month.

"At least they look at me," he said before he could stop himself. "They don't go out of their way to avoid talking to me."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she cursed herself for being so weak. "It's not like that," she argued feebly.

"So how is it, then, Sara?" He gently used a finger to turn her face towards him. She shifted her gaze to the floor, concentrating on keeping the tears at bay. "I miss the old days. Back when you didn't used to treat me like someone whose gaze could turn you into stone. Back when we actually _talked_."

"We haven't talked for the longest while. Not since they split the team up into different shifts," she pointed out.

"Yeah, and I miss it. I miss _you_," he said firmly. He let out a sigh. "Sara, you know what I was thinking down there?"

"What?" she asked in a small voice. She chanced a look at him and was surprised to see some of the old life creeping back into his eyes.

"I was thinking about all the things I haven't done yet – getting married. Having kids. Having grandchildren. Learning more things, forensics-wise. I thought about my parents and my siblings. I thought about Griss, Cath, Warrick, Greg and _you_. I couldn't stop thinking about you, Sara. I was wondering if I would ever see you again. I promised myself that if I walked out of there alive, there would be no putting off the things I wanted to do. Life is too short for beating around the bush. It's too short for skirting around what you _really_ feel. Sara, I wondered if I would ever get to do _this_."

He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers, giving her the gentlest of kisses. Tentatively she kissed him back, and encouraged by her response, he kissed her harder, trying to convey his feelings for her through action where words had failed him.

They broke apart minutes later, breathing hard. She clung at his neck, tears beginning their slow trek down her cheek, falling and landing on his shirt, wetting it. He held her tightly, his body nearly shaking with relief, knowing that he had been extremely close to losing this.

"Nick," she said, pulling away from him and using her hand to caress his cheek lightly, "The live feed… I was watching, and seeing you there…" More tears slipped down her cheek. "It scared me so badly. When they got you out, it was nothing short of a miracle. I really thought I was never going to get a chance to tell you how I felt. I just… I guess I didn't know how to tell you. I mean, we're on different shifts, and – "

He silenced her with another kiss. When he pulled back, he was smiling. It wasn't his trademark Texan grin, but it was close. "You are so cute when you ramble, you know that?"

Her face broke into a smile – the first real smile he had seen in a very long time – and looked right at him, her brown eyes locked on his. "We're going to be okay, aren't we?"

"Yes," he said, pulling her close, "we are."

**THE END**


End file.
